


And the award goes to...

by Turkington82



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Acting, Anticipation, BAFTA Awards, BBC, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hot Sex, Kissing, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Sexy, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7997131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turkington82/pseuds/Turkington82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is 2017, the BBC have commissioned a new period drama starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Michelle Dockery. You have scored the role of senior costume designer, your first breakthrough gig for national television. You know very little about Mr Cumberbatch other than a major assumption he is probably a typical actor-diva. So how long do you think it will take to prove that little nugget wrong? Slow burn, leading to many delicious sexy times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On set...

  

 

The trailer was stiflingly hot. They said trailer, what they meant was glorified campervan. And that was being generous. When you stretched out too far in the matchbox-sized bed your foot hit the sharp corner of the kitchenette counter top, which had resulted in a bright purple gumball sized bruise on your ankle after only 3 sleeps. When you looked out of the pokey window at the back of said ‘trailer’ you looked out onto a small stretch of grass, before a large grouping of giant black and silver filming trucks, one with a rather dramatic looking satellite dish on the roof of it, and in between them all a mess of rigging, temporary lighting set up and masses of sound equipment boxes.

Further to the left a slightly bedraggled looking white marquis (it had been raining since the dawn of time it seemed) – the crew’s canteen. Beyond that, in a much nicer field – shaded by a cluster of very old oaks, 5 PROPER trailers – home to the stars of the show, naturally. Big monster trucks really, houses on wheels. At least, they looked that way to you, as you stubbed your toe (again!) on one of the 8 giant cases stacked about your tiny camper.

You took a long, deeply satisfying yawn and shook out your long auburn hair before tying it up in a messy bun. You grabbed your ID lanyard from a hook on the wall, threw a giant olive green wool scarf round your neck, stepped into your wellies (seriously, there was more mud here than at Glastonbury festival) and headed out the door, clutching a multitude of protective suit covers and various shirts on hangers.

This was the set of Laningham House – a new BBC 2 period drama set in the 19th century for which you were senior costume designer, a job you had fought tooth and nail for. The setting was the lavish estate of Knole House in Kent – a sprawling National Trust estate replete with gambolling deer, dense woodland, bucolic apple orchards, and torrents of bloody rain.

You had previously worked on a number of smaller period dramas and historical documentaries, but this was your first BBC gig, and first as senior, leading a small team of fashion historians and design assistants and you were so proud to have got here. Needless to add, the cast were pretty phenomenal – the profile of this show was going to do wonders for your career as long as you didn’t cock it up! Leading woman – Michelle Dockery, Leading Man – Benedict Cumberbatch, supporting actor – the frankly adorable Tom Holland.

You’d barely met them, only hovered in their vicinity on day one when you and the team had started setting up the on-set wardrobe in the main reading room of Knole House which was doubling as a storeroom, and on that particular day, as a hang out room for the actors to run through lines and grab teas and coffees.

Today however, you were talking Michelle and Ben through the principle wardrobe and making final fittings and it was for this that you  were trudging through the sludge in the drizzling rain to Trailer 1, trying your hardest not to trip and drop _Mr Laningham’s_ frock coat in the mud.

You weren’t sure what to expect really. Divas most likely – you’d certainly worked with a few. You’d not watched Sherlock or paid much attention to the incessant rise of the wunderboy and couldn’t understand what all the fuss was (although your two best friends were die-hard fans, you’d been working so hard the last few years you’d barely had time to chill, let alone Netflix-and). All you knew was, Mr Cumberbatch was currently enjoying basking in the luxury of an air-conditioned villa on wheels, and no doubt going to be a monumentally arrogant pain in the arse and you were wet, tired, and your foot hurt.

You arrived at the door of the trailer and knocked hard.

“Mr Cumberbatch? Wardrobe!”

Not a sound. You waited a couple of minutes, then knocked again, louder and suddenly heard a large kerfuffle. The door swung open and a slightly flustered looking Benedict appeared, hair wet and a navy dressing gown wrapped around him. He looked lost momentarily and you felt slightly embarrassed, then he broke into a huge lopsided grin.

“Hi....gosh, so terribly sorry! You caught me – I am clearly running late – was just having a shower! Erm – come in!”

You didn’t really know what to say so just stuck out your hand to shake his and smiled back. You couldn’t help but note the gown was wrapped pretty loosely against his lean frame and his tousled wet hair did wonders for that boyish, quirkily charming face of his.

You took his hand and shook it, “Hi, sorry about that! I'm Zoe Chanlder, nice to er... meet you. I can come back, if you...need a moment?” _his hand was lovely and warm._

“No, no no, not to worry, entirely my fault – come in I’ll get ready and be with you in a jiffy. And please, it’s Ben!”

You stepped into the trailer – noting the spacious living room area, and he immediately set about moving bags and clothes from off the sofa to give you room.

“Grab a seat, I’ll just go and get dressed and you can set up. Feel free to make yourself a coffee, there’s some Nescaf somewhere in a cupboard!”

He looked at you again, smiling as you lay the clothes out over the sofa arm before turning and making his way to a room at the back of the trailer.

Well, you thought. Not a total diva then... You looked around the room, littered with books, empty mugs and bits of script all over the floor marked up with highlighter and scribbles. A large black Antler suitcase sat at one end of the sofa alongside a large, battered looking brown leather holdall.

You opened a cupboard and indeed found the Nescaf and set a kettle boiling. Your mind wondered to the man whose trailer you were in.

Ben, with his wet, tousled hair and that smile. The perfect received pronounciation. All 6 foot of him. He was going to be a dream to dress! And maybe your friends had a point... he was certainly easy on the eye.

Just as you were pouring coffee, Ben emerged. You turned to face him and your tummy did a little flip. The hair was still tousled, probably towel dried. He’d attempted to tame it back, but it flopped here and there. A slightly ripped, clearly ancient light wool jumper and pair of casual jeans – that slightly effortless, but studied look. Barefoot. He grinned.

“Is there enough water for another cup?” He came right up to you, leaned past you to grab a mug from behind where you were stood at the counter and in that instant you caught a faint whiff of cologne – something fresh and woody. Delicious. _Christ – where was your head even going?_

He grabbed the mug and busied himself making a cup – somehow managing to look at you throughout most of the process.

“So, sorry about that, nice to meet you properly. I promise, despite reputations I’m normally pretty punctual but we had a bit of a night out last night and I really struggled with the alarm this morning.” He gave you a conspiratorial smile and sidewards glance. He really was quite the handsome man.

“Oh, we’ve all been there, as long as you behave during your wardrobe fittings, I won’t breathe a word.” You shot back a cheeky grin, wondering instantly where the sass had come from.

You both stood for a moment - quietly sipping the hot coffee. You took a moment to digest the fact that you were basically about to dress an Oscar Nominee after a chit chat over a mug of Nescafe.

“So... “ you needed to get cracking to avoid getting nervous... “what is best for you, shall we run through the general wardrobe concept first? I’ll talk you through the costumes we’ve put together, you might want to add or change a few things depending on your take of the whole thing. Then we can work scene by scene and start building the pieces together?” You did your best to sound completely in control and organised, not wanting to give away that this was your first really major gig.

“I’m all yours!” Ben smiled. “Whichever way you want to work it, I’ll take your lead.”

You blushed at his confidence in you. Which he clearly noticed. He put his mug down then looked you right in the eye.

“Can I ask a personal question?”

You gulp – now what, you wondered? “Of course – fire away”

“You look... nervous – but you really needn't be. Lindsay (*the show’s exec producer) thinks you are bloody great at costume - from what I heard there weren't any other contenders for the job, you worked on Little Creek last year – which was fab.

“You saw that?” You sounded surprised. Little Creek was a 6 part mini-series only available on Amazon Prime. It had received fantastic reception but was pretty niche.

“Yeah!" - Ben smiled at you, eyes full of reassurance - downloaded the whole thing online – "it kept me going on set during filming for Sherlock! Bloody brilliant.”

“Wow. Well – thanks! I – yes, I am a bit nervous. Truth be told this gig is a massive one for me. I mean, don’t get me wrong I worked hard for this and I know I can do it, but on the day now that its all kicking off, I can’t help having a few moments where I realise the scale of the project I am working on!”

He let out a small laugh and went over to the sofa, starting to pick up some of the clothes you'd laid out and feeling the textures of the fabrics.

“Well, Zoe – You’re going to do a great job I am sure and frankly, if you can make me look half as brilliant as you did Mark Rylance in Little Creek, then I will thank you now in advance.”

You walked over and pick up the first of a number of ruffle collared frock shirts, unzipping it carefully out of its clothes bag. You held it up and look back at him. He cocked an eyebrow up.

"I don't think anyone would struggle to make you look good - ahem. So now its just a case of making you look authentic." You smiled softly at him, relaxing into the moment as he clearly was not going to be a horrendous snob - in fact, you were warming to him quite rapidly. He returned your smile, eyes lowering briefly at the compliment. Then he reached out to take the shirt from you.

"Right, then. Time to turn me into Mr Laningham."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 <http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=207625998>

 


	2. Trailer talks...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Benedict in his trailer, and try on some ruffle shirts. With Nescafe...

He’d put you completely at ease, asking lots of questions about the costumes and being genuinely interested in the research you’d conducted on the period itself. After you’d showed him a folder full of sketches for various scenes and rifled through the costume items you had brought along, he’d offered you another mug of coffee as you got the various clothes hung up ready for fittings.

“It’s a long day today, we’re shooting night scenes until about 2am – so it’s caffeine a go-go for me...” he said cheerfully as he spooned the coffee into your mugs.

“Funny” – you laugh – “I’d have pegged you for a fancy Nespresso machine kind of guy.”

“Haha, well – I won’t lie, I have one at home, but frankly nothing beats a giant milky Nescaf in a proper mug. Guilty pleasure.”

He turned to hand you your coffee and smiled.

“So, time to get me suited up then. What are we fitting first?”

You lined up the day coat, ruffle collar shirt and tweed three piece ensemble on hangers. Several pairs of polished costume shoes in boxes unloaded that had already been left in his trailer.

As you busied yourself getting the items ready, you heard Ben shuffle about behind you. When you turned he was suddenly down to nothing but a pair of dark grey boxer briefs.

“Oh! Look at you...” You exclaimed, the surprise on your face causing him to giggle, as you realised you were being completely unprofessional. You turned beetroot red.

“Ahem..” He began, “Didn’t want to waste any of your time. Shall we?”

“Yes, well – definitely no time wasted where you’re concerned!” You raised your eyebrows at him in mock shock and he laughed even more. You thanked the gods you had diffused the totally unexpected thrill in your heart at the sight of him as he reached out to grab the frock shirt.

It had taken every effort to avert your eyes from his frankly, delicious body – pale, lean, somehow both boyish and manly at the same time, still faint evidence in his arms and chest of some of the muscle he had put on for Star Trek.  

You cleared your throat as he started to get the shirt on. Then the tweed slacks. They fitted him like a glove.

“So, how did you get into costume then?” He asked as you started pinning up the bottoms of the slacks where they were a bit too long.

“Well, I did History of Art at Cambridge, then a one year MA in Fashion Design at St Martin’s. I ended up doing several internships at the V&A and with costume archive centres, then a few friends in the theatre put me in touch with wardrobe people and that was that. I love fashion, but I loved the theatre more and the research that goes into recreating looks.

“I think you might have worked with some friends of mine.” Ben cut in “I know Lindsay said you were talked highly of amongst her contacts and she’s mostly theatre background. I’ll bet we have some contacts in common”.

“Possibly, although I don’t know anyone quite as famous as you...”

“I... well, I have no doubt over a few drinks we’ll find out – the world is a small place”

You finished pinning the trouser legs, and helped him fit the waistcoat at the back as he slipped into a pair of lace up boots. _*Was that... in invitation to drinks?*_ you laughed at yourself internally. Of course it wasn’t a personal invite for drinks. This was a film set. Of course there would be drinks. Group drinks. No doubt many. Suddenly you relished the prospect. Not so much herding Divas as possibly enjoying a lovely glass of vino or two with this absolute gentleman.

“How do I look?”

He’d put the coat on over the suit and stood up tall to face you. He looked utterly gorgeous.

 

 “You look... quite dashing Mr Laningham.” You were surveying the detail on everything, making sure it met your exacting standards.

“Why thank you Miss Chandler... It is.. Miss? I presume?” Your eyes connected for a second and something passed across his like quicksilver, so fleeting.

“Oh, yes... It is very much Miss...”

You thought for an instant he had smiled ever so slightly wider. But you shook it off and looked at your watch.

“Right – next fitting, and we need to be quick; I am meeting Michelle in half an hour!”

“God, I really am holding you up, right, promise to get my arse into gear.”

He immediately started undoing the ruffle shirt, and simultaneously stepping delicately out of the boots, trying not to ruin the pinning up of the trousers. You reached forwards to help with the waistcoat and he suddenly stopped unbuttoning the shirt and his arms dropped to his sides. You realised he thought you were stepping in to assist with taking his shirt off. For a moment you awkwardly started to explain, then though “Well...what the hell?!” – He looked patiently at you, the corners of his mouth in small upward smile and you let yourself move in.

Delicately, you started to unravel the tie at his collarbone, and then unbuttoned the top 3 buttons right around his Adam’s apple.

“You know...” he started to breathe softly, his head tilted down at you as you wrestled with one particularly tight button “Michelle won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late. Besides, I clearly can’t even do up my shirts properly so I am going to need all the help I can get.”

You looked up at him, and using all your willpower not to go soft at the knees instead gave him a withering eye roll.

“You big baby – _as IF_ Mr Sherlock needs assistance – Surely you’re absolute pro at shirts and ruffles by now.”

“Hmm, am I deducing you are using your utmost best sarcasm at me right now?”

  
“You deduce correctly Mr Holmes.” You retorted with a grin as his shirt finally came off and you left him to deal with the rest. You turned your back to him to start hanging the final clothes for fitting as he tidied up the discarded shirt and trousers.

You HAD to remain professional; you were there to do a job. Also, you were running late already and frankly, weren’t even sure what this scenario was. Friendly on set banter? The air seemed warmer suddenly. Was this a friendly ‘getting to know you?’ You pushed it out of your mind and turned on your super-pro face, turning around to hand him the next shirt.

He clearly sensed the change in the air too and got into the next costume with minimum fuss and no jokes. Instead he reverted back to the friendly chit chat.

“Your family must miss you when you’re away on set?”

“Hmm, not so much. Only child. I speak to Mum every other day – we’re very close. It’s just me and her now, my Dad passed a couple of years ago, so... honestly we’re almost like sisters now! She probably wishes she was here right now. She’d be... probably fangirling! What about you? Big family?”

“Oh um... half sister only. My Dad married before...and.. yeah I am very close to them. Wouldn’t be here without them really”

You chatted over the next 20 minutes, in between pinning shirts together and taking measurements as Benedict stretched and turned to accommodate you. Family, only child stories. Giggles.

It was only when your mobile rang that you realised the time. You were seriously late.

“Zoe – I’m in Michelle’s trailer, where the hell are you?” It was your assistant Lotte, clearly wondering where on earth you’d got to. The women’s costume dresses were so complicated you needed three people just for the fitting.

You looked at Ben and pulled an “I’m in the shit” face, he reciprocated with a shrug and mouthed “Tell them to take a chill pill” at you. You both giggled in silence as you reassured Lotte you were on your way.

You had quickly packed your essentials – asking Ben if he could kindly hold your various shirts until you had them collected later.

As you were about to step out, Ben held the door open for you and smiled a big dorkish grin.

“See you later Zoe. And don’t worry, Michelle is very cool, she won’t be a dragon.

You smiled back

“Thanks – I guess I am still a bit nervous!”

“You needn’t be. You’re a pro and know your stuff. We’ll catch up later on set...”

“I hope so!” – It escaped from you before you had time to think, as you were grappling getting your box and hangers down the rickety trailer steps.

“You definitely will, look forwards to it” Were the last words you heard from Ben as he waved you off with a lingering smile before closing his trailer door.

So... not so much twattish Diva as rather handsome (you had to admit it), charmingly polite and generally chilled out guy. Who’d sparked a little curiosity in you. A little... A lot? You certainly knew you couldn’t wait to see him again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Benedict Cumberbatch. Or anyone else for that matter. But mainlining Nescafe is essential for me to function :) Thanks to all the really lovely people who fedback, I am truly humbled. I am a total newcomer to Sherlock and Benedict and only just catching up (what fun!) so thanks to all of you. Hope you enjoy this!


	3. Words, words, words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet again (over more hot beverages) and get an invite for drinks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Images are not from Knole House although main aim is to convey the idea of the space/setting. These are from various similar National Trust properties. I don't own Ben etc. Again - all feedback very well received! Thanks so much Cumberbunnies!

Michelle’s fitting had gone really well. She was an utter delight. Down to earth, patient as hell as you fussed over the ridiculous amount of crinoline you had to get sorted under her skirts and she could do a mean impression. Mostly ones taking the piss out of Benedict, or Dame Maggie Smith whom she’d obviously worked with for years on Downton Abbey.

After two gruelling hours, many cups of tea and one rather strenuous nightmare with a corset which had ended in fits of laughter, Michelle’s core wardrobe was fitted and arranged and ready to be taken to the set.

Michelle was called off to start play reading and you and your team headed off with Ben and Michelle’s items to the main hall in Knole House where a costume room had been set up.

By 5 pm you had sorted the core cast’s wardrobe items, photographed them, separated bits that needed mending or taking in and boxed up unwanted items for storage. The wardrobe room was stuffy, you desperately needed a cuppa.

You headed out, and made your way down a long, imposingly grand corridor, lined in dark oak, that was laid down with plastic sheeting and illuminated by temporary floor lamps. Makeshift signs all over the place pointed towards various areas of the “SET”. You followed the ones marked “BREAK ROOM” right down at the end of the corridor.

 

     

As you walked, you passed several doors to your right that opened into a grand reception room. Amidst the plush antique furniture and various sofas covered in plastic sheeting, a square formation of fold out desks and plastic chairs were set up. You spotted Ben, Michelle and various other cast members all rehearsing a scene at one end and Lindsay and Scott (*Director) at the other – they were clearly in the thick of it. Ben’s lovely rich voice rumbling through a big monologue as his hands gestured, clearly getting into the swing of things.

You couldn’t help but stop and watch for a bit, in the doorway. He was quite captivating in character, and as the scene unfolded, you got rather engrossed. Lindsay called cut at a certain point to start reviewing elements in the script and the cast broke out of character and started to relax back and get into conversation. You were about to move on, back to the break room when you saw Ben waving at you from the other side of the room.

It was just a brief wave and an eyebrow raise to acknowledge he’d seen you but it caught you by surprise. You waved back and pointed in the direction of the break room, making the sign of “drinking a cup of tea” at him. He immediately did a thumbs up back at you and mouthed “gimme five”.

You scuttled off towards the break room.

It was basically an old servants scullery, set up with a tea and coffee station and every possible kind of McVitie’s biscuit under the sun. You were hovering between a hobnob and a Jaffa Cake when you sensed a movement behind you.

“Jaffa Cake. Every time.” Ben reached out to grab one and gave you a huge grin.

“Ben! Hey – that was quite something back there, watching you all get into it. I mean, I’ve read the script but it’s a whole other thing to see you all playing it out.”

“Yeah? Glad you enjoyed it. We’ve done a lot of work on this one scene, we’re shooting in about an hour. How are costumes going?”

“Nearly done for the day. I’ve got a couple of slacks to take up then I’m off. Knackered! Still, at least I’m not shooting til 2!”

You took a Jaffa Cake too and chatted away about the scene they were going to shoot. You reached for another one, then suddenly Ben reached his hand out towards you, pointing at the corner of your mouth.

“Um, you’ve got – chocolate…”

You giggled and reached up to the side of your mouth to wipe it off.

“Gone?”

“Nope… hang on” – He gently cupped the side of your chin and used his thumb to wipe the crumble of chocolate from the corner of your bottom lip. For a moment you felt your breath hitch and looked down. He quickly pulled his hand away as though he’d been inappropriate.

“Er… There – all gone” He smiled and ruffled the back of his neck. The air grew considerably warmer.

“Oh…good. Thanks. Um… so – well, I’d better get on. Want to wrap up…”

“Yeah, same… we’ve got to get started. Um… listen, a bunch of us our heading to the pub tomorrow evening for a bite to eat. If you want to come along? About 8-ish?

“Oh, of course. Yes, count me in.” You thought for a second, then asked “I…should probably invite the rest of my team too – if that’s ok?”

“Oh, what? Er yeah, yeah! Of course! The more the merrier!” He smiled and popped his mug in the sink. “Well, if I don’t see you, we’ll be heading off about 7.30 – it’s a short walk to the next village really. I can pop past your trailer?”

“Of course – number 8. The one with the massive puddle in front of it. My morning joy…” you laughed.

“Cool. Ok, look forwards to it.”

He dashed off back down the corridor, leaving you wondering why you felt so flustered inside. For god’s sake he’s just a bloke having a tea and asking you to join his mates at the pub. Literally nothing to get excited about. And yet – something about him was completely walloping you in the stomach. And when he’d touched your face – in a completely nonchalant way – it had thrown you. The heat of his fingers. Clearly you needed cold water, not another tea. You dumped your mug and decided to call it a night and get an early one. You had plenty to do tomorrow and didn’t want to look knackered in the evening.

 

 


	4. The White Hart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You hit the local pub with Benedict and crew. You're an instant hit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The White Hart pub is real and is really located near Knole House. Everything else is sadly a figment of my imagination...

[ ](http://www.polyvore.com/pub_night/set?id=208364505)

The White Hart Pub - near Knole House

[http://www.polyvore.com/pub_night/set?id=208364505 ](http://www.polyvore.com/pub_night/set?id=208364505)

(outfit)

 

You worked most of the following day in one of the crew trailers talking your team through amends to clothing that needed doing and reviewing storyboards and the shoot schedule with the Director of Photography.

In the afternoon you and your team started sourcing accessories etc that had been mentioned that might fit with various scenes – your favourite part of the job as you loved the research and calling antique or vintage boutiques to enquire about rare or unusual items for costumes.

7pm rolled around faster than you could have imagined and you were sitting in your trailer, touching up your make up when your mobile had started to buzz. You looked down:

“Hi – Benedict here! Just wrapping up here so headed over to pick you up in about 20 minutes, OK?”

You stared at your phone. For a brief moment you laughed at the fact that if you had received this back home in the pub with your own friends they would have actually gone into fits of hysteria. You smiled – then squinted at his Whatsapp profile pic. It was pure DorkBatch – a grin like a deranged kid on a sugar meltdown in a sweet shop. You smiled even more and texted back.

“Definitely ready for a drink! Hope you’ve got your wellies on – it’s like WaterWorld over here on the slummy side of the set…”

“Sorry, full tuxedo. I didn’t get the memo about the mud.”

You grinned as you applied the last of your makeup and went to find your coat in one of the various boxes cluttering up your trailer.

Ten minutes later there was a knock at the door. You checked yourself one last time, drew a deep breath and opened the door.

 

It was already dark outside, but from the light of your trailer, you see a big dorkish smile and then look down and realise Benedict is standing ankle deep, right in the middle of the puddle that has formed in front of your steps.

You look down at his feet then back up at his face and immediately the two of you burst out laughing.

“So when you said there was a puddle…” he started, in between giggling.

He finally stepped out and up to your trailer steps, his converse and the bottoms of his jeans absolutely soaking wet.

“See – I did warn you! It’s all very well for you lot, with the air conditioning and the butler service over in field one! You probably have a servant throw himself in the mud for you to step over, am I right?”

You stepped back into your trailer to let him in, immediately grabbing the first tea towel you could find and handing it to him, whatever use that would have.

“Need me to speak to someone about getting you some servants?” He grinned.

“Oh any magic you can sway that way…!” you responded.

“Mind if I…?” he started to take off his trainers and motioned to leave them outside.

“Oh! Be my guest…. But seriously? Trainers?”

He looked up at you sheepishly as he took the second trainer off. It was at that moment that you took a proper look at him. Navy jacket, grey graphic t-shirt which fit in every kind of lovely way. His hair in a particularly mad tousle that evening, likely from the humid weather, snug fitting jeans. His eyes like liquid opals.

“I’ve been told many times I shouldn’t dress myself. I need a stylist. Know anyone good with fashion?” He raised an eyebrow at you and a mischievous smile.

You swallowed quickly as his eyes completely disarmed you. Dressing Benedict every day? Increasingly tempting….

You went to open your cupboards which were filled with costume shoes.

“So um… I can lend you any number of alternative footwear options? I mean, we have riding boots, velvet monogrammed slippers, a delightful pair of dress shoes, perfect for traipsing down a horse-shit strewn country lane to the Dog & Fox…”

He padded over to where you were, leaning right up against you to peer into the cupboard over your shoulder.

“Honestly, anything you’ve got. I deserve to look like a twat really.

“Did the others go on ahead already? I hope they’re not all waiting down the road? – your cheeks were flushed you had to keep talking to concentrate

“No, they’ve gone on – they can grab us a table. I’ll text them to let them know we’re on our way”

You finally found a pair of not too ridiculous looking brogues, grabbed your jacket and headed out the door.

By the time you arrived, the rest of the gang had already ordered a second round of drinks. You gave a small wave to Michelle, but hadn’t really been introduced to the rest. You felt a bit out of your depth considering it was mostly actors. Your colleague Lotte had gone along with Michelle and was sat at the other end of a large table in the back of the pub.

Benedict immediately brought his arm round your waist to guide you over and introduce you – you felt like you were meeting the parents, and shivered with a small thrill at the feel of his firm hand against your back.

“Zoe this is Charlie – he’s my sidekick *laughs all round*, Tom (Holland) – who really should have a chaperone since he’s out past his bedtime; Michelle you’ve met of course and Larry – he’s our sound guru – slash – Chef fixer-of-all-things. Everyone, this is Zoe who is essentially going to make us all look like Victorian rock gods.”

Michelle patted a couple of spaces beside her and you walked over to her. Benedict’s arm barely left you as you went and he pulled out your chair as you got to the table.

“Drink?” He leaned in and spoke into your ear.

“Large Cabernet please, if they have it.”

He strolled off to the bar counter and you could already see a couple of inquisitive faces from other diners in the pub.

Michelle immediately leaned in at you.

“Well, you’ve made an impression!

“What? Who?

“Ben silly! He kept looking for you at lunch time today then pretending it was because he had a question about a hat – as if, think he was hoping you’d be working in the main house again.

“Looking for me? No…. ha… I mean, I’ve never even worked with him before. He’s just friendly, he’s made me really feel welcome but I’m sure he’s always like that”

“Zoe, trust me, I’ve known him for ages. I’m not saying he’s not normally a charmer, because he is, but you’ve definitely caught his attention. He texted me the other day to say it was his fault you were running late and to treat you nicely as it was your first day and how amazing you were. Not something he would usually be so enthusiastic about!”

“Really? Um… I don’t really know what to do with that info! Erm….”

“Haha, sorry – couldn’t resist, you guys just look nice together. And he’s right – your work IS amazing. Your knowledge is bonkers and I’ve seen some of your fashion stylings – total envy!”

“God you’re sweet, thanks so much! As for Ben… well, I can’t say I find him utterly unattractive…” you looked conspiratorially at Michelle….”from a purely professional perspective of course!”

You both erupt into laughs as Ben gets back to the table and puts down both your drinks.

“What did I miss?”

“Oh …. Er, nothing, just telling Michelle about your literal faux pas into the quagmire earlier.”

At that you recounted the story to the rest of the table, with Ben duly pulling all the requisite faces.

The evening went on with plenty of stories and jokes, already the camaraderie on set was beginning to grow. Ben told a story about being chased by a crazy stunt dog in a recent short film he’d shot. Tom had all sorts of gossip from Spider-Man to which you admitted to being a huge Marvel fan. They were all incredibly friendly, pulling you right into the conversation and you regaled them with some of the funny encounters with eccentric collectors you’d met whilst researching for this show.

At a certain point you had barely registered, you realised Benedict had placed his arm along the back of your chair and every time you leaned back his fingers just barely curled around your shoulder. As the wine flowed and you relaxed more you moved ever closer towards him. Throughout the evening there were moments where the jokes were simply between the two of you, a glance here, and smile there. You couldn’t deny there was a glint in his eyes in those moments.

As you looked over to Michelle a couple of times she had simply smiled back and mouthed

“Told you so.” And given you a thumbs up.

This was going to be a very interesting experience… After so long being single, could it be the guy you were hoping for was right here? The most unlikely person of all that you would have ever imagined?

 

 

 

 

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	5. Cassiopeia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we stargaze with Benedict....

The evening wore on and you sensed you were getting more and more tipsy. You knew you needed to call it a night, given your early morning.

Not only that but you started to sense that your cheeks were flushing ever redder, and not necessarily because of the wine.

A few round the table had been trying to conceal yawns and the bell for last orders had rung.

Although you could feel the heat from Benedict’s fingers as they occasionally “accidentally” brushed against your back, you knew you had to tear yourself away – be sensible, stop fantasising and get a grip on the fact that you had a long slog ahead tomorrow.

You got up and started to say goodbye.

“Lovey evening, but I really need my beauty sleep! If anyone is heading back now?

You looked around, but no one seemed ready to stir quite yet – as though they were waiting for something.

Benedict immediately stood up.

“I should probably go too – I’ll walk back with you…. Anyone else?” He looked round the table too, with a slight sense of suspicion, but Michelle, Lottie and Chris all sort of murmured that they might sneak a last one in..

You looked at Michelle with a raised eyebrow quickly.

She snuck you a cheeky smile back and mouthed “GO!”.

You slipped on your cardigan, gathered your bag and headed to the door, which Ben held open for you, of course, and stepped into the starry night.

It was a 10 minute walk down a country lane to the entrance of Knole Park estate. The stars were out in full force and you couldn’t help but both stare up and gaze at them - a luxury neither of you could ever afford in London where it was always too foggy or bright even at midnight.

“Cassiopeia” you pointed up, your breath crystalising in the cool February air.

“What’s that?” Benedict was looking up where you were pointing. You both stopped in the lane as you tried to show him.

“Look, right north of that really bright star, you see the stars that form a sort of ‘M’ shape? That’s Cassiopeia. I always loved the name – it is so unusual.”

Ben was right behind you now, following the direction of your gaze. He almost whispered as though you were sharing a deeply private moment.

“How do you know about constellations? It’s something I used to be fascinated by as a kid. I had a telescope in my back garden, Dad and I would try and spot things.”

“I did costume for a short history programme about Gallileo once. I got quite into some of the books we researched, and remember going to a lecture at the Royal Observatory. There’s Andromeda, just further south.”

“I know the Big Dipper” He laughs pointing up at the familiar wheelbarrow shaped constellation. “Everyone know that one”.

You laugh again, then let out a shiver. The wintery air suddenly creeps up on you.

Ben notices and without even hesitating pulls off his leather jacket and wraps it around you.

“Here, don’t want you getting a cold”.

You shudder, this time less from cold than from the warmth of his soft jacket and his close proximity. In the dark his eyes seem to blaze from under his messy curled locks. You look bashful for an instant then pull his jacket closer around you.

“Thanks… silly me really for coming out without a coat. SO much for being the fashion guru.” You both giggle and start walking again. Ben closer this time.

You suddenly feel awkward, not knowing what to talk about. You start rambling a bit about upcoming scenes and your research of the day.

“So, I have to go into London tomorrow to get a set of velvet spats and driving gloves – turns out the ones we sourced are a couple of decades too modern for the period. I’ve found this complete eccentric who collects spats – who knew… - he’s willing to loan them. I bet he’ll be a right character!”

“Is this for the driving scene? Sounds intriguing. It must be fun to go on escapades hunting for all these little details. Where does he live?

“Somewhere near Hampstead Heath. Runs an emporium near Tufnell Park tube station.

“Don’t say it’s the Goldwyn Emporium?”

“Yes! How do you know?”

“A guess! It’s right near my flat…. Walk past it regularly. But I’ve never actually been in.

“Oh…. Well, that’s a random coincidence” You thank god for the night to conceal your furious blushing at the sudden thought Benedict is just blurting out where he lives, a fact you realise would have half the female (and male) population of the UK turning somersaults. Knowing his intense desire for privacy, you feel odd that he seems so casual in front of you.

“When are you going?”

“First thing tomorrow, need to get back in the evening to set up wardrobe for the extras scenes the next day.”

“Well… I have a day off. Maybe I could come with you? If you don’t mind of course. I mean, maybe you’d rather just get it done and do your work.” He suddenly looks as though he asked a stupid question.

You are totally thrown.

“Erm, well – if you want to of course you can join. It might not be very… interesting?”

“Oh I love this – honestly, it’s like playing dress up – costumes are half the fun. Besides, I can pop in and check on renovations whilst I’m there, they’re doing some work on my flat so maybe I can stick my head in and see how it’s getting on?”

“OK… well, sure. It will be nice to have some company. I’m getting the train about 10 am from Sevenoaks”

You immediately feel daft. As is he would casually get on a packed public train. He’d be mauled before he even set foot in the carriage.

“Oh, well… maybe that’s not such a good idea…?” You look at him slightly unsure.

“Well, I could wear my classic paper bag on my head disguise… or – how do you feel about motorbikes?”

You look quizzical.

“Er… I have no idea?”

“I have my bike here. You’d be safe, promise. I have an extra helmet. We can be there in about an hour and a half” – he is grinning at this point.

“You ride a bike?” – you blurt, not sure how nervous that makes you.

“Yes! I love it, love riding. Come on, it’ll be fun.” He looks giddy as a schoolkid as he turns to face you. “Seriously, we can get a ride otherwise, if you’re absolutely not comfortable with it, but I think you’ll enjoy it. I’ll look after you.”

You go crimson at his last words. Wrapping yourself around this gorgeous specimen of mankind on a roaring beast of a machine going fukl throttle down a motorway? The idea both thrills and terrifies you. You find yourself agreeing before you’d even noticed.

“Excellent, if you want to meet about 8.30 we can get going and grab a coffee in the city.”

You’d arrived on the estate by this point and were nearing your cluster of trailers.

He was walking right beside you now, describing his bike and how he got into riding. You slowed by your trailer, careful this time to skirt round the puddle. You made to take off his jacket.

“Wel…” - it went silent very quickly and you looked up at him shyly. He wassmiling softly, his eyes boring right into you. “Thanks for walking me back. It’s a great group, it was nice to get a proper introduction.”

“We all admire your work. And I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. That was the intention.” He takes his jacket back and slips it on. You suddenly remember his trainers are on the steps to your trailer.

“Mind if I leave those? I’ll pick them up when they’ve dried.

“Of course.

“Great. Well, I won’t leave you out here too long, it’s freezing. But I’ll see you tomorrow.” He takes a step towards you and your breathe hitches as his tall frame dominates over you. He reaches his arm out and gently grabs you by the shoulder, before leaning in and placing a delicate kiss on the side of your cheek.

“Goodnight Zoe. I’m looking forward to our little adventure tomorrow.”

You want to melt into the puddle and barely manage a breathy “Goodnight” before turning and walking into your trailer before you give any hint of how much he has an effect on you.

Your skin burns where his lips traced your cheek. You feel your face on fire.

You could barely even wait for the morning to come and knew you were going to have a sleepless night…

Benedict trotted back to his trailer, his own thoughts a complete chaotic muddle. He hadn’t been in relationship for a while, but you had taken him completely by surprise. He’d had a feeling in his gut since you’d walked into his trailer, like a sense of familiarity, of comfort – like he’d meant to meet you. At the same time, a powerful attraction. He couldn’t wait til tomorrow, to get you alone properly, get to know you better. To feel you against him on the bike. Almost like a teenager, he felt his hormones fizzing as he headed to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Benedict Cumberbatch or any of the actors or real people mentioned in this fanfic. Some locations are real. Am providing images where I can to flesh it out a bit. Any feedback most welcome, good or bad as it will help me carry the story along. Thank you Hiddlesbatch fan bunnies!


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